


Wayang Kulit

by micehell



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, PWP-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-10
Updated: 2005-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-12 02:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/micehell/pseuds/micehell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two shadows meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wayang Kulit

Fraser shifted on the uncomfortable cot. It was actually worse than the one at the consulate, as difficult as that was to believe. But then they hadn’t had a lot of choice as to accommodations. He and Ray had been on the trail of a fleeing suspect for the last two days, without break, before they’d finally tracked him down. They’d found him right outside of Sudbury, which had caused Ray to complain that, until he met Fraser, he’d never even been in Canada, not alone gone there every other week. Used to Ray’s hyperbole, Fraser had let it go. Mostly.

But by the time they’d finally gotten their prisoner processed through the local constabulary, it had been too late to find suitable lodgings for the night. Thankfully, the local RCMP post was adding a new dormitory, and had agreed to let them bunk there.

The facility was unfinished as yet, the rooms without furniture, curtains, or doors, only the rough cots that had been brought in for them and for a few others that were staying here for the night. Ray had complained about the cots, and about the fact that the lights from the post were going to keep him awake, but it had been a mild complaint for Ray, and he’d been tired enough to go straight to his room.

Which was right next door to Fraser’s, unfortunately enough. Though they were far enough away from the others that he shouldn’t be heard, Ray’s proximity meant that he would have to be very quiet. What it should have meant was that he would just go to sleep and not risk this, but two days of close proximity to Ray had made the need nearly unbearable. And Ray being a room over didn’t do a thing to dampen it. Not even the fear of being caught could do that now.

But quiet was what he needed to be. And so he quietly slipped his shorts down, allowing his far too hard cock some relief. He’d almost expected his balls to be blue from the strain the last two days had placed on them, but everything was its normal, well, normal when aroused color. They just felt blue.

Running his hand along his length, he tried not to think of Ray. Of Ray in the car, beside him for hours on end, and so close that Fraser could smell him. Of Ray, excited about catching his fugitive, grabbing Fraser in a quick hug. Of Ray, lying in the next room, wearing nothing but his boxers. But pink elephants and Ray… both were impossible not to think about.

The cot was digging into his back in distracting ways, so as silently as he could, he sat up, kneeling on the lumpy padding, his cock once again in hand. The lights from the post cast shadows everywhere; short ones behind him, long ones out into the hall. He smiled, the shadow in the hall reminding him of some bizarre Wayang Kulit theater. He pumped his cock with exaggerated movements, making the shadow puppet dance.

His breath, already coming in pants, nearly stopped when another shadow puppet came on the stage. But while Fraser’s stilled, the other shadow moved, continuing the dance that Fraser had started.

The two shadows were so close, only separated by a small stretch of wall. Without conscious thought, Fraser shifted, his shadow drawing nearer to the other. He barely heard the creak from the next room, but he saw when the shadows drew together, their edges overlying each other.

Still not sure if it was deliberate, Fraser once again stroked himself, letting the shadow speak for him. He grinned fiercely when the move was mirrored, shadows stroking each other in an age-old dance.

Fraser felt lightheaded, happy. The movement had been deliberate, aware. Ray would never do this to toy with him. Only the needs of the job kept them quiet. Which was more than Fraser had ever expected.

The shadows continued to play, touching themselves, each other, in an intimate dance. Movements sped, and shadows blurred together, becoming one. Fraser’s eyes closed as he came, the shadows disappearing; repressed, hidden. But he could still smell the semen. Could still hear their quickened breaths, the whispered cry of ‘Fraser’, and his own needy ‘Ray.’

In the past, this act had all too often left him emotionally lonely, if physically spent, but this time there was a satisfaction beyond the moment. Beyond his sated flesh. ‘Fraser’ in Ray’s voice, with Ray’s need. His need.

Listening close, he heard his partner settle on his cot, heard his breathing even out in sleep. Quietly. And Fraser smiled again. One day, Ray would be Ray and not Ray, and then there wouldn’t be any more need for quiet. There wouldn’t be any more shadows.

 

/story  



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